


The Stars Look Nice Tonight (and So Do You)

by cloverfield



Category: Eyeshield 21
Genre: Blatantly Ogling Your Significant Other, Established Relationship, M/M, NSFW Meme, Outdoor Sex, Sex Is Not A Substitute For Exercise, Shin being Shin, There Is Only One Sleeping Bag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:46:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22101271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloverfield/pseuds/cloverfield
Summary: “Sena.” Shin’s voice is soft, his shirt hanging loose in one hand, hair wet and dripping. His eyes are so dark, dusk and firelight and the shadows of his face burning away everything but the intensity of that gaze. “You’re staring.”“I know.”
Relationships: Kobayakawa Sena/Shin Seijuurou
Comments: 6
Kudos: 50





	The Stars Look Nice Tonight (and So Do You)

**Author's Note:**

> NSFW meme fill. The prompt was 'Shin/Sena - outdoor sex'. Set in a nebulous future where they're college-age and in an established relationship.

It was probably too much to ask for that Shin would have packed them a tent, but at least the bedroll is sure to be warm: they brought a proper camping mattress with a weather-proof lining and insulated sleeping bag covers, big enough for two and laid out across a staked tarp to protect it from moisture rising from the ground below. And Shin himself runs hot besides, which is absolutely the _opposite_ of something Sena is going to complain about, especially in autumn with the first chill of winter bleeding into the night air, chill enough that Sena can feel it bite into bare skin even with a campfire crackling merrily away close by. He towels his hair off with determination - going to bed wet, even after a hot bath, is an invitation to catch a chill at this altitude for sure.

The _skushhh_ of quite a lot of water pouring out over leaf-litter and undergrowth as Shin tips up the barrel-bath and empties it down the edge of the camping site in a big gush of steam almost dulls the hiss and pop of the firewood, sparks spitting upwards in spiralling embers, and when Sena looks up to say something about how nice it is that the campsite had a makeshift bath even this high up in the mountain, the gleam of firelight on wet skin catches his eye and stops his tongue with a stutter.

“Sena.” Shin’s voice is soft, his shirt hanging loose in one hand, hair wet and dripping. His eyes are so dark, dusk and firelight and the shadows of his face burning away everything but the intensity of that gaze. “You’re staring.”

“I know.” It would have been embarrassing, once, to be caught like this - caught looking where he shouldn’t, caught dry-mouthed and awed and speechless with it - but it’s been _years_ since Sena mustered up more courage than he ever thought he’d possessed to make a confession he was sure would end in rejection, and since then a lot of things have changed and for the better.

(He’s allowed to look now, for one.)

“Come here,” is what Sena says instead, because he _can_ , and Shin does - rights the barrel back onto its platform without care for its weight, steps neatly over the firewood stacked beside it for its next use, each movement sure and steady and completely unhurried as he crosses over to where the bedroll lies waiting. A scatter of water falls from dark hair and broad shoulders, cast off by fluid motion as he goes down, taking the hand Sena offers. Shin doesn’t need it, but it’s nice all the same, the shape of his palm and the warmth of skin made supple by his bath slipping easily against Sena’s own.

“We’re supposed to go to sleep,” says Shin bluntly, but even if he isn’t _quite_ smiling there’s a twitch at the corner of his mouth that speaks of amusement. “You’re going to make us both tired in the morning.”

Sena laughs, because despite _that_ flat statement Shin certainly isn’t putting up anything like resistance, dropping his shirt without care for where it lands atop the tarp and letting himself be drawn down, sinking to his knees above Sena, the heavy weight of his thighs bracketing Sena’s hips.

“We’ll sleep in,” offers Sena, and grins at the dismissive grunt. The thin cotton pants Shin means to sleep in are already damp from the last traces of bathwater, clinging to the heavy muscle that jumps beneath Sena’s palm as it drags up the thickness of Shin’s thigh, and the heat of his skin is radiant. “Or would you rather we stop and go for a run at dawn instead?”

For a moment, the shadowed look on Shin’s face is almost pained - this isn’t the first time they’ve been to the mountains, and their routine is pretty set in stone at this point. Straying from routine is not something Shin is normally comfortable with, but he’s always been open to suggestions where Sena is concerned and the near-silent hitch of his breath as Sena’s fingertips skim across the inside of his thigh is surrender enough.

“We’re still running in the morning,” says Shin shortly, and even as Sena opens his mouth to laugh a protest - sex counts as exercise, surely they can skip the morning run for just one day - Shin’s hands catch his wrists and bear them down to the mattress beneath as he surges up on his knees, Sena caught beneath him.

“ _Ah-!_ ”

The strength in that grip never ceases to amaze, though it’s not quite amazement Sena feels right now: caught like this, pinned beneath the not-inconsiderable weight of Shin as he bears down just enough to hold Sena captive, the huff of Sena’s breath as it rushes out in a gasp that drowns out the blood that pounds in his ears... _Yes!_

“I don’t want to stop,” says Shin softly, as much a confession as it is a promise, and Sena shivers pleasantly at the press of damp skin as Shin sinks down atop him, thighs parting for the press of Shin’s knee.

“That’s good,” he manages, words bubbling up without thought, “because I really don’t want you to stop either–”

It’s not surprising to be stopped with a kiss, words lost in the press of that mouth to his own - and Shin’s lips are just as hot as every other inch of him, the dizzying heat of his body prickling where it sinks into Sena’s skin. Autumn nights have nothing on this, and Sena groans into the kiss when the hands about his wrist flex in their grip, swapping a two-handed hold for only one, Shin’s other hand scuffing across Sena’s belly and rucking up his shirt to leave Sena bare beneath.

For a long moment there’s only that - the weight of that hand, heavy and dragging, the roughness of those fingertips casting up sparks like embers, their glow crackling warmth across his skin - but then Shin’s thumb catches his nipple, callused and teasing, and Sena shudders as the spike of wanting that bolts down into his gut, hands twisting in Shin’s grip.

“Off,” murmurs Shin, unwilling to break the kiss long enough to speak. His breath is hot, the movement of his lips distracting, his nose bumping gently against Sena’s own. “Clothes. _Off_.”

Sena squirms a little, squeezing his thighs about the thickness of Shin’s own between his legs, that spike of want curling into something heady as it rolls in his belly. “You need to let go first,” he laughs, half-breathless with the sheer ridiculousness of it.

Shin grunts, sitting back and letting go with a suddenness that speaks of impatience, and his eyes are hooded and dark as Sena wriggles upright enough to tug his shirt off and shimmy out of his track-pants, losing sight of where they land as he tosses them out of the bedroll and not really caring, either. He’s got better things to think about, especially with how Shin is watching him, gaze hot as it falls from Sena’s face to his chest to his hips and back again, catching Sena’s eyes with his own and holding them long enough Sena’s breath starts to quicken. 

“Better,” he rumbles, and the timbre of it is so low Sena feels it in his ribs, the hair on his arms standing up eagerly.

“You too.” He barely has to say it before Shin’s up, dropping his pants and stepping out of them carelessly, crouching down to drag the covers open beneath Sena’s legs, canvas and nylon rustling. “Shin-san, I - _oof_.”

Shin’s weight is sudden and heavy, but Sena opens his arms all the same, hands curling across the breadth of those strong shoulders and his breath shuddering out of his chest as he’s pushed down into the mattress once more. “ _Seijuurou_ ,” is the murmur, warm against Sena’s ear, and the rush of skin to skin is dizzyingly good, heady enough that Sena can only faintly hear himself mumble something like agreement.

Shin’s hands are on his hips, rough and warm and _so good_ where they drag over skin, and Sena’s thighs part without thinking, just enough for Shin to edge between them. “Seijuurou,” Shin repeats, as though _waiting_ , and Sena shudders all over when he realises why.

“Sh- Seijuurou.” Shin’s mouth is wet, dragging heat down the line of Sena’s throat, lips catching on his pulse as it pounds. “ _Seijuurou_.” Sena’s head tips back without prompting, and the catch of teeth on skin rippling with anticipation is just enough to make him gasp. “Sei- _ah!_ ”

“Nn.” Shin bites his collarbone, just barely a nip, but it’s enough - Sena’s hips jerk and the weight of Shin’s fingers curling about his hipbone isn’t enough to pin him down. “You move too much,” he mutters, and now those fingers are moving down the crease of his thigh, skating rough over skin prickling with heat, the first flush of sweat slipping beneath callused fingertips.

“Huh?” says Sena, already halfway to dazed, and jerks in a full-body spasm as Shin closes that big, hot hand around him and strokes once, twice. “Gnn _ghh_.” It’s not a question or even a word, really, just a noise - but it’s _wanting_ , and Sena’s tongue is thick in his mouth as the press of Shin’s hips force his legs wider, huffing out breath that fogs above him as Shin shifts closer, just enough to take them both in hand and _squeeze_.

“Nnghh–!”

His palm is almost too dry, his grip almost too much - but it’s _good_ , and the drag of skin on skin is dizzying in its intensity, punching the breath from Sena’s lungs as he gulps for air. “Sei–” Another stroke, dragging and toe-curlingly _slow_ , makes Sena’s eyes flutter open, startled at the sudden darkness - when did the sun set? Wasn’t it still evening a minute or two ago?

“Sena,” breathes Shin, a huff of breath that heaves from that powerful chest; his hips roll and Sena’s eyes close again, heat tumbling in his gut. Nightime, daytime, _whatever_ \- it doesn’t matter. He’s here with Shin and that’s the only thing that does.

“Give me your hand,” Sena mumbles, squeezing at the shoulders that shift above him, thick muscle rippling deliciously beneath his fingers. He turns his face into Shin’s hand when it rises to cup his cheek, licks across the line of his fingers, tongue dragging over the roughness of his palm and making Shin hiss; damp fingers slip down between them to take hold once more when Sena’s done, and this time the touch is just wet enough. “Ah- Seijuu _rou_ –”

Sena’s sweating now, the night-air prickling cold on flushed skin, but Shin gives off heat like a sauna, radiating and hot as he presses closer, _closer_ , Sena’s legs locking about Shin’s back as they cross behind his hips. The stroke of Shin’s hand quickens, slicker now, gliding them both together, and Sena’s breath catches as his heartbeat thunders, a pounding in his chest and in his blood and in his belly that tightens with every twist and squeeze.

He bites Shin’s shoulder, because he can; sinks his teeth in to the meat of muscle, Shin panting out a grunt as Sena’s hips stutter, and the stars Sena sees flash aren’t above him but _inside_ \- sparking behind closed eyelids as the sudden peak hits like a tackle he didn’t seem coming and knocks him down completely.

The stroke of Shin’s hand falters, hot and slick and _shaking_ , and Shin’s not far behind, crushing Sena close with the arm around his back and dragging him off the bedroll in a desperate hold. “Sena,” he mumbles, thick and breathless, lips catching on the curve of Sena’s neck, and Sena wraps his arms around Shin’s shoulders as they both shudder, the last few strokes enough to leave them gasping.

“Seijuurou,” says Sena again, the name soft in his mouth, and then grunts in shock as Shin collapses completely, pinning Sena to the bedding without warning. “ _Oof_. You’re - you’re really _heavy_ ,” he mumbles, too breathless to even protest.

“Not moving,” grunts Shin, just barely slipping his hand free. His fingers are warm and sticky where they curl around Sena’s thigh, and Sena can feel his heart pounding where they’re pressed together chest-to-chest.

“We can’t sleep like this - we have to clean up first,” Sena mutters, but it’s not really a complaint - and anyway, if he stretches his arm out he can probably reach the towel he dropped earlier.

“In a minute.” Shin sounds tired, but in the good way - like after a long match played hard, or a run up and down a mountain. Something in Sena flushes warm knowing he can do that to the unstoppable Shin Seijuurou, and the arms around Shin’s shoulders squeeze just a little tighter.

Sena sighs. “Alright.” The firelight is low now, the campfire burned down, and the shadows of the trees above are long and dark as they stretch into the night. Still, through the gaps in their branches, Sena can see the stars - so much clearer than they are back home in the city. “Just for a little longer.”

**Author's Note:**

> Because Shin is Shin, they still end up going for a run at dawn.


End file.
